Harry Potter and the Secret
by irishchic799
Summary: Harry Potter has been keeping a secret from the world since he was 7 years old. When the last person he wants finds out, will all be as he hoped or as he dreaded. Set in the summer after 2nd year. Severitus. Father Fic
1. Chapter 1

Another year was coming to an end. Harry could hardly believe everything that had happened. All of it, the diary, Ginny, Tom Riddle, the Basilisk, it all seemed too strange, even in the wizarding world.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and all the other Gryffindor and Slytherin second years were sitting through their last Potions class of the year. Professor Snape, Never one to give breaks, was giving out the summer homework assignment.

"I do hope that you will all," he looked purposefully at Neville Longbottom, a rather nervous and clumsy boy, "do better in my class next year."

The bell rang and, in his rush to leave the classroom, Dean Thomas knocked into Harry. Harry went sprawling and the contents of his bag flew all over the room.

Harry scrambled to gather all his books and parchment. In his haste, he failed to notice an old, worn bit of parchment flutter right to Professor Snape's feet. Thinking he had everything, Harry nearly sprinted to the door, eager to leave the dour man's presence.

"Mr. Potter," Snape drawled, "I believe you have forgotten something."

Harry turned around in time to see Snape reading something he had vowed never to let anyone see. Dropping his bag he rushed to the professor.

Thank you, professor," Harry said, trying to take the parchment from the tall man, "I'll just take that and leave."

But it was too late. The damage was done. Professor Snape, always the stoic, had so many emotions on his face that Harry wasn't even sure he could identify all of them. He could see confusion, shock, anger, and, most surprisingly, hurt for sure. Other than that he was unable to tell.

"She-she-," he vulnerable man stuttered.

"Professor?" the nervous twelve year old whispered hesitantly.

"Are-," Snape's voice cracked. He cleared his throat. "Do you know if this is legitimate?"

"It is," Harry whispered. "It's from the ministry. It can't be faked. I checked in the library last year."

"I see," the professor said. "Perhaps we had better talk about this. Follow me; we can speak in my rooms."

"But professor," Harry said, "I have Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall won't be pleased if I miss her class."

"I do believe that this is more pressing than a Transfiguration lesson," Severus Snape said quietly. "However, I will speak to Minerva later and explain. Now, follow me; I will show you to my rooms."

Harry silently followed his professor into the potions master's office and through a painting. The rooms he saw when he walked through the painting were very cozy looking, done in browns and greens.

"Have a seat," the man said, gesturing towards the couch and three armchairs.

Harry chose a worn, brown leather armchair. Ever since Professor Snape had gotten a hold of that blasted piece of parchment, Harry had been trying to find a way out of this mess.

"Now," the professor nearly whispered, "do you have any idea how it is that I am your father?"

If anyone is interested in beta-ing for me I would really appreciate it. I would like someone who enjoys reading fics similar to this one and who can pick up grammar mistakes for me. Thanks!

Also, I will be updating this as regularly as I can but it takes me a while to type stuff out. Sorry!


	2. Chapter 2

"Yes," Harry whispered, barely loud enough for Severus to hear, "Mum wrote a letter."

"How did you come about this letter?" Severus Snape asked.

"My aunt threw an old box of my mum's stuff in the trash. Inside there was a picture of you and mum, the letter, and my birth certificate," Harry was talking a little louder now.

"Could you-," the unusually nervous man stopped. "Could you tell me what the letter said?"

Harry almost sighed in relief that the professor wasn't upset. "Sure. I'll show it to you later. It was actually to you but I was only seven when I found the box in the bin so I didn't know who you were.

"About a year after you and Mum were married, she found out she was going to have me. I didn't really get this part but, she said she was afraid he would get me if she stayed with you. Even though it was the hardest thing she ever had to do, she told you that she had cheated with James and that I was his. She knew that he would take her in because he was her best friend and he had always loved her. She said she was positive that you would never want to talk to her again because James was your worst enemy.

"That's all it said, except that she loved you and that she was sorry," Harry finished.

"But…" Severus began, trying to process it all, "why don't you look like me?"

"She found some old spell," Harry informed the older man. "It didn't say how it worked, just the incantation but I couldn't find it in the library. It said I would start to look like you once you found out, though."

"Well," Severus Snape said, his voice still soft, but louder than it had been, "if you would like, you could stay with me for the summer."

"What?" Harry cried. How could he possibly be saying that? "Leave the Dursley's?"

"I understand that you want to stay with your aunt and uncle. I am sure that you wouldn't want to live with me."

Was it possible, could he really sound disappointed?

"No!" Harry exclaimed. "I mean, no, that's not what I meant. I meant that, well, you hate me."

"I don't," Severus said gently, a tone that did not seem to fit with the tall man's persona at all. "I was angry at your mum for cheating on me and I took it out on you. I never hated you."

"So you really want me to live with you?" Harry asked hesitantly. "You really want me as your-" he paused, then whispered, "Son?"

"Of course, I do," the man said thickly. "Would you- would you like to live with me over the summer? Or perhaps just stay for a week or two if you are uncomfortable staying the whole break."

"I would really like it if I could stay," Harry mumbled, "for the whole summer."

"Excellent," the professor said, "why don't you come down after dinner tonight? We can speak some more and inform the headmaster of your decision."

"Alright," Harry said feeling happier than he had felt in quite a while.

"Do you think that your aunt and uncle will try to fight this?" the Potions Master suddenly said. "That you are choosing to live at my home?"

"Oh, no," Harry said quickly. "They hate me. They'll be really pleased that they don't have to waste any more money on me."

"Oh," Severus said. He was somewhat disturbed by this. He hadn't seen Petunia since he was about 14 or 15 and Lily had rarely spoken of her and that mammoth husband of hers but she had never once spoken fondly of them. "You should be getting to your lesson now. I will inform Professor McGonagall that you were speaking with me later."

"Ok, sir," Harry said. "See you later."

"Yes," the older man replied distractedly, "goodbye."

Harry left the office and walked up the three flights of stairs to the second floor, where his Transfiguration lesson was nearly over.

"Mr. Potter!" Professor McGonagall said sharply, "I hope that you have a _very_ good explanation as to why you are fifty minutes late for this lesson."

"Yes, ma'am, I was speaking with Professor Snape," Harry told the woman. "He said he would speak to you later."

"Very well, take your seat," she sighed.

"What happened?" Ron asked as soon as Harry sat down.

"Why did Professor Snape keep you for so long?" Hermione whispered at the same time.

"Tell you later," was all he said.

~~~~~HP~~~~~

"Come on, Harry," Ron whined after their last class of the year. "Tell us!"

"Alright, let's go to the library," he sighed heavily. "We've got half an hour before dinner."

The three friends trudged to the library. Most of the other young witches and wizards were outside enjoying the lovely weather but Harry still found a table in a secluded back corner of the library.

"Tell us, Harry, please," Hermione begged.

"I dunno if you guys will believe me," Harry muttered "but, well…here read this and then I'll answer any questions."

Ron and Hermione read the piece of parchment. After a few moments, Ron decided to say something.

"Harry," Ron said quietly, as not to incur Madame Pince's wrath, "there's been a mistake here. It says that Snape's your dad!"

"I don't think that there has been any mistake, Ronald!" Hermione snapped.

"No," Harry said as he felt fear well up in the pit of his stomach at the thought of losing his best friends, "it's not a mistake, Ron. He and my mum were married. I found a letter along with this when my aunt tossed them five years ago. It said-"

"You've known for five years and you never told us?" Hermione asked angrily. "How come you didn't tell us?"

"That's a good question, Harry," Ron agreed. "I thought we were your best friends."

"You are!" Harry exclaimed. "At first, when I found out that my dad was here, I was going to tell him right away and then you guys would have known. But he was so mean to me on our first day that I decided never to tell anyone. I didn't want any chance of him finding out from anyone."

"Then how did he find out?" Hermione questioned. If Harry had decided never to tell anyone then how had the Potions Master found out?

"Well," Harry said embarrassedly, "I keep my birth certificate in a journal. It reminds me that I am not an orphan and that I might have someone out there who-" Harry broke off thickly, "someone who would love me. I usually leave it in my bedside table but I guess I put it in my bag by mistake. It fell out when Dean bumped me and my bag fell. Professor Snape found it on the floor."

"Well, mate, I may not like him much but as long as he's nice to you, that's all that matters," Ron said throwing an arm around his best friend.

"I agree with Ron, Harry," Hermione said. "You are our friend. It shouldn't matter who you are related to."

Harry felt the relief wash over him like a warm, comforting wave. He had been terrified that he would lose the only two people who had ever cared about him (besides his parents). Now that he knew he wouldn't, it seemed like everything about this strange, somewhat scary situation was a little bit better.

~~~~~HP~~~~~

Harry ate dinner slowly, thinking about his talk with his father later that evening. He was scared and excited all at the same time. Scared because he still wasn't sure of his dad and how he would react. Bur Harry was also excited because his father had offered to let Harry live with him for the summer.

All too soon, he found himself outside Professor Snape's office. He knocked very softly on the big oak door. When no one came right away, Harry turned and started to walk away down the dark corridor. He stopped, however, when he heard the door creak open.

"Harry?" the Potions Master called uncertainly. "Are you there?"

"Yeah," Harry answered, walking back to the office, "I'm here."

"Come on in," Severus said. "We have a lot to talk about."

The duo walked into the nice, cozy living room. Severus motioned for Harry to sit down. He chose the brown leather armchair he had sat in earlier that day. Severus left and, after a minute, returned with a tray that had tea things upon it.

"How do you like your tea?" Severus asked as he poured a cup.

"A bit of milk and four spoons of sugar, please," Harry replied softly.

Severus was dumbstruck. That was exactly how he took his tea. He'd always thought it to bitter. To counter the bitterness, he had always added a healthy amount of sugar or honey.

"Are you ok, sir?" Harry asked, after a moment of Severus sitting still.

"That's- I am just a little surprised." At Harry's confused look he elaborated, "That is how I take my tea."

"Oh," Harry said uncertainly, not sure how to process this information. He knew that he and his professor were biologically related but hearing the man tell him that they took their tea exactly the same somehow made it more real to him.

After his father was done pouring the tea the younger Snape asked, "So, what do you want to talk about?"

"Well," he took a long sip of tea before continuing. "Mostly, I wanted to use tonight to figure out arrangements for this summer and to talk with Headmaster Dumbledore."

"I thought-" he broke off quickly, shaking his head, "forget it."

"No, tell me," Severus insisted. "You can tell me anything."

"I thought you wanted me to stay with you this summer?" Harry spoke barely above a whisper.

"I do," Severus smiled, "but according to the Ministry, you have to live with your aunt and uncle. We need to change your legal guardian from them to me."

Oh, ok," Harry said. "How do you do that?"

"Well," Severus began. He took a drink of his sugary tea and continued, "I was going to talk to the headmaster about it because it can take a long time to go through all the paperwork and such. I believe we can avoid those obstacles, though, if we go to them directly and get them to sign over custody of you."

"S-see the Dursleys?" Harry stammered, fear flashing briefly in his eyes. "Why? They won't look for me or tell anyone I'm not living there; they'll probably throw a party when I don't come back."

Severus was again worried by Harry's adamant denial that his family would miss him. Surely they cared for each other. They had been a family since the preteen was a toddler, after all. There had to be some sort of familial attachment.

"Mr. Po- Harry," the sallow-skinned man corrected himself, "if I do not get custody of you and it is found out that you are staying with me, I could be charged with kidnapping."

"But you're my father," the young boy tried to convince the older man. "How can you kidnap your own child?"

"Perhaps I wouldn't be arrested for kidnapping," he conceded, "but I could still be arrested for custodial interference. I could be fined or sentenced to a stay in Azkaban, which is probably what would happen, given who you are. Then I would never be allowed to have custody of you."

Harry tried to hide his trepidation about seeing the only family he had ever known. The look of fear that passed over the young wizards face was not missed by the Potions Master.

"You'll be with me?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes," Severus answered slowly, forehead crinkling in confusion and worry. "Why?"

"Oh," Harry said, flustered, "I just…they won't probably believe me if you aren't."

"Rest easy," he assured the fearful child. "I shall be there the whole time. We will only be there long enough to get their signatures and anything that you have there that you would like to take. As soon as that is done, we will go to my…our home now, in Peacehaven. It's a small town in East Sussex."

Harry still looked apprehensive but he said no more. He was too focused on what the professor had said

Our home now.

_Our home._

The neglected child had never had a home before. Oh, he had had a house to go to and sleep in and keep his tattered, second hand possessions in but it wasn't a home. A home was a place where you felt safe and warm and happy, a place where someone who loved you was waiting with a hug and a kind word. It was a place where you had a room to call your own with a comfy bed and a wardrobe full of your clothes; a place that you ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It wasn't a place where you were treated like vermin and expected to serve as a house elf. It wasn't a place where you were told you were an unwanted freak who should have died instead of being placed as a burden on your hardworking, decent relatives. It wasn't a place where you were screamed at and thrown into the cupboard that served as your room. It wasn't a place where you only got to eat maybe half as many meals of scraps as a healthy person should have.

He had a home now.

A _home_ with a father who wanted him, who would maybe, one day, even _love _him.

Harry prayed that that day would come soon.

"Harry, are you alright?" the Potions Master asked, his eyes crinkled with concern as he leaned towards his son to see what the matter was.

"Huh?" he blinked, pulled from his reverie.

"Are you alright?" the man repeated, concern lacing his silky voice. "I have been calling your name for three minutes."

"I'm fine," the young wizard muttered. "Just thinking."

"Are you sure you're alright?" the elder Snape asked. Harry nodded so he said, "If you are sure, we should head up to the headmaster's office. He has contacts in the correct departments of the Ministry that can get us the correct forms for your relatives to sign. It could take weeks, otherwise."

The tall man led his short statured son to the fireplace so they could Floo up to the headmaster's office.

~~~~~HP~~~~~

After a short twist through the emerald green fire, Harry tumbled out into the office of the eccentric old man that ran the school. His father helped him off the floor and brushed away some of the soot that had adhered itself to his robe.

"Severus," Professor Dumbledore spoke, startling both of his visitors, "I must say, this is very strange indeed. If Harry is in some sort of trouble, it is customary to use the door, not the Floo that can only be accessed from a professor's personal quarters where students are not allowed, if I might remind you."

"I believe that rule is void," Severus smirked, "if the student in question is related to the professor whose quarters he is in."

"I realize that the Potters and the Princes are related," Dumbledore sounded confused, "but your relation to James as fifth cousins is not the kind of relationship that is an exception."

"No," Severus agreed, "it would not. However, the relationship of father and son should be sufficient."

Dumbledore tried to feign shock but the Potions Master had much experience when it came to dealing with the meddling old coot before him. He could see the smile in his eyes, even though the rest of his face was covered in shock.

"You knew," the suddenly (and rightly so) furious man hissed. "You knewhe was my son all along, didn't you?"

"Why, Severus," the white haired warlock began in a tone of fake confusion, "I have no idea what-"

Severus cut him off.

"Don't you _dare_," he leaned forward to give his growl more emphasis. "Don't you _dare _try to tell me you didn't know. I can tell you did, you lying, cheating, manipulative bastard!"

Harry's mouth fell open in shock. He had never heard anyone speak so harshly to or of the headmaster that way, not even Mr. Malfoy about the Chamber.

"Now," Severus continued in a slightly less hostile tone, feeling that he had gotten his point across rather well, "tell me the truth or you will find yourself short one Potions Master and one celebrity student."

The old wizard sighed and gestured for the pair to sit, which they did.

"Shortly after Halloween 1979," Dumbledore began his story, "Lily came to me, highly distraught. When I managed to calm her down, she told me that you were married and that she was expecting. She begged me to get you out of your position as a spy. I told her that doing that would surely mean your death, as it would have, had I pulled you out then.

"When I had her convinced that I could not do that, she insisted that I help her hide her child from you. She was afraid that her baby would be in grave danger, should it become known that he or she (she didn't know what it was at the time) was the son of a De-"

Severus cut him off.

"I shall ask you to leave that part out of it, Albus," he said sharply, a fierce glare affixed to his face.

"Of course, of course, my boy," Dumbledore agreed. "At any rate, she was afraid of the danger the child would be in if it was found out that you had wed and reproduced with a Muggle-born woman.

"After about a week or research, I figured out how to do it.

"I found a spell that has fallen out of use in today's society as the result can be achieved with certain potions. This spell, however, it more effective and is potentially permanent, unlike the potions.

"The spell changes the appearance of a woman's child from an extramarital…excursion, shall we say, to look like it is the child of her husband. If either man found out who the true father was, the spell would slowly begin to wear off. It takes a bit of the surrogate father's magic and weaves it with the child genes to make them appear to be the surrogate's own flesh and blood.

"We made plans for her to tell you of a betrayal so terrible that you would never look back at her. That is how we came up with James; you would never again be able to share a bed with a woman who had been with someone you hated so deeply. It would make sense to the rest of the world as well, as they did date during their seventh year after you and Lily had that falling out when you were fifteen.

"As long as she never told you that her son was really your son as well and didn't tell James the name Harry's biological father, no matter how certain he was of who it was, we wouldn't have any problems. She was going to tell you when it was safe, my boy. Truly, she was."

"Then why, in Merlin's name, did you not tell me after she was murdered?" Severus hissed angrily. "Why send him to her sister's and make the world believe he was an orphan when he wasn't. Why did you deprive me of the one good thing that I have ever done in my life?"

His voice steadily rose until, at the end, he was nearly shouting.

"I had thought," the elderly man said calmly, "that with some of your _old friends_ still around, he would be safer with his aunt's family. I thought you would want him to be protected and that was the best way I knew how."

"I could have protected him!" the livid father roared, standing from his chair so quickly that it toppled over with a loud clatter. "I would have done anything to protect him! I would have moved to bloody Antarctica to keep him safe! How can you think that I wouldn't-"

"Severus," the headmaster interjected loudly. "I really think you should-"

"Shut up!" Severus bellowed. "I don't give a flying-"

"Severus!" Dumbledore said, louder still as he stood up. "Calm yourself at once! You can yell at me to your heart's content later but right now you need to CALM DOWN." He then pointedly looked towards Harry.

Still infuriated with the man, he followed his gaze to see what the headmaster was looking at.

What he saw made him want to sick up.

Harry had pulled his legs up to his chest with his arms tightly holding them there, as if to protect the soft flesh of his abdomen from an assault. The small boy's breaths were coming in short gasps. His eyes were full of terror and they were darting around, seeming to look for an attacker.

Severus was shocked and horrified. The boy shouldn't be reacting this way to some yelling. Sure, shouting could be a bit scary to a child but Harry was much more than a bit frightened. He was paralyzed with fear. Something wasn't right here.

The still fuming Potions Master took several deep breaths before he addressed his new found son.

"Harry," he said in a gentle tone that he hadn't used in years. He crouched down in front of the chair so that he was at eye level with the short child, "I am sorry for frightening you but I am not angry with you. I am very mad at the headmaster but _not _you. Do you understand me?"

Harry looked up into the face of the sallow-skinned, hooked nosed man. The aforementioned man could still see fear shining in the bright green eyes but the boy nodded in answer to his query.

"How about we return to my rooms for a bit," Severus suggested, still in that gentle tone that hadn't been used since the morning Lily had told him that her child was the product of an affair with his boyhood enemy. "We can talk some more before you have to return to your dorm."

Harry nodded again and unfolded himself from the chair. He stood up and the younger professor could see that the boy was trembling slightly.

Severus Snape led his twelve year old son to the Floo and sent him twisting through the fire before following the boy himself.

He stepped out of the fire to see Harry dusting the soot of himself. At first he wondered why the boy wasn't using a cleansing charm but then it occurred to him that those charms were usually taught by parents. Harry had never had parents, at least not that he could remember, and it wasn't like Petunia or her husband could have taught him. That was his job, now.

"Would you like to learn a charm that will clean the soot off of you?" the father asked his young son. "It is much easier than trying to brush all of the soot off."

"That'd be great, sir," Harry said quietly, still looking at the professor warily. "As long as it isn't too much trouble."

"It is no trouble at all," Severus assured him. He pulled his wand from inside of his robes . "

"The incantation is _Peniculus ters_," he informed Harry. "The wand movement is a sweep down the body starting at the head and going to the feet. I will demonstrate."

He lifted his wand and quietly said the incantation, trialing his wand from the top of his head down to the floor. A soft blue glow followed the movements of the wand and he as soon free from the soot that covered his robes and hair.

"Now you try," the professor encouraged his young student.

Harry grabbed his wand from his pocket and cast the spell. Immediately, he felt the gritty soot leave his body.

"Wow, that's cool!" Harry said, his earlier fear waxing a bit. "Why didn't Mrs. Weasley use that charm last year when she took us to Diagon Alley?"

"How many of you were there?" he asked as he sat in the armchair and gestured for Harry to take a seat as well. "The whole group of them?"

"Well, not Ron's oldest two brothers," the boy answered while he sat on the couch. "I've never met them. But Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Percy and Fred and George and Ron and Ginny and I were there."

"Ah," Severus responded. "That's it then. It's a very taxing spell. You are essentially summoning each particle of soot and banishing them all at once. It is hard to do for yourself and one other person, let alone for three other people, which the Weasley parents would have had to do."

"How come we've never learned that spell in class?" the twelve-year-old asked.

"These types of charms," he said slowly, "hygiene charms, are usually taught to a child by their parents. Muggleborns take a class in the beginning of their first year to learn them. You must have gotten looked over because you have magical parents. The role for the class is determined by the enrollment scroll."

Harry felt a thrill of happiness zing through him. His father, _his father _had taught him something that _parents _did.

Harry had not said anything in a short while so Severus broached the topic that he had been nearly sick over since they had been in the headmaster's office.

"Harry," the disturbed man began, "I would like to talk to you about what happened in the headmaster's office."

"What do you mean, what happened in the headmaster's office? Nothing happened except you and him talked," Harry said too quickly.

"I think we both know that something more was going on there," Severus said quietly. "You were terrified when I was shouting at Professor Dumbledore. Why did that upset you so?"

"It didn't upset-" Harry tried but Severus gave him a look that stopped the protest. "My uncle shouts at me a lot, that's all. It startled me."

Severus took a deep breath and sighed. This wasn't working. He was going to have to try a more direct approach.

"No, Harry," he countered, "you were much more than simply startled. You were petrified."

He hesitated before asking the next question. The new father didn't want to have to ask this because he didn't want to her the answer.

"Does your uncle…hurt you, Harry?" the professor asked gently.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, his eyes going wide and his voice raising an octave.  
"Uncle Vernon doesn't hurt me. Why would you think that?"

"You're aunt, then," Severus pressed. "Someone has hurt you, child, and I want to make sure whoever is responsible pays."

"No. NO! No one hurt me! No one hurt me!" Harry's voice was loud and shrill. His eyes were full of terror. "Quit saying that! No one hurt me!"

The boy was so distraught that his eyes filled up with tears. His breathing quickened and his muscles went taught. The boy really was working himself up into a lather. If he didn't calm himself down, he would make himself sick.

"Alright, Harry," the Potions professor tried to sound reassuring and soothing. "You need to calm yourself else you shall get sick."

The child nodded slightly but nothing about his current condition changed. He was still extremely tensed and in danger of hyperventilating.

Severus cautiously moved to sit beside the boy. Harry seemed to tense even more, although the older man could hardly believe that was possible.

"Harry," he said slowly and softly, putting a hand on each shoulder, "I want to try something to help you calm down, alright? Do you think you could try that?"

Harry nodded stiffly so Severus said, "I want you to close your eyes and take a deep breath in."

The black haired boy did.

"Good," Severus said quietly, "now out. I want you to keep doing that. Now, I want you to think of a place where you feel safe and content and calm."

Harry searched through his mind trying to come up with something. Certainly not his cupboard or Dudley's second bedroom. The Gryffindor thought of his dorm but he didn't have any special connection with it. It was just where he slept. He felt safe and content with Hagrid, mostly, but it didn't really seem like a very calm place with Fang barking and Hagrid shouting. He loved the pitch but that was nowhere near safe or calm, so that wouldn't do.

The one place he really felt safe and content and calm, the vulnerable child realized, was right here, with his father sitting next to him, the weight of his large but elegant hands comforting.

"Do you have a place in mind?" Severus inquired. Harry nodded, eyes still shut tight. "Alright, now just stay there and keep breathing until you feel all the tension relax away. Think of nothing else except your breathing."

They both fell silent, only their deep, even breaths punctuating the air.

Suddenly, Severus was jolted from his stupor when the short boy slumped to the side. His head rested on the back of the couch and let out a tiny sigh.

The professor part of Severus Snape knew that he should wake the child up and send him to his dormitory but the father part of Severus Snape that was beginning to emerge didn't want to wake him. Asleep, Harry looked much younger and very peaceful, much more relaxed than the professor had ever seen the boy around school. With his dark eyelashes resting on his pale cheeks that had a light flush on his cheek bones, the unusually small twelve year old almost looked…angelic.

The Potions Master had to physically shake himself. Where were these feelings coming from? Yes, the boy in front of him was his son, his son with his beloved Lily so of course he cared about him. He had always cared in a way, just because the child was part of his Lily. But now, there were feelings that went past simply caring about his safety. They were feelings that he hadn't felt since he had closed his heart to the world over thirteen years ago, feelings that he hadn't let himself feel since Lily had broken his heart.

He loved his child.

The cold, dour man didn't know it was possible but he loved Harry. It didn't matter that, until this afternoon, he still thought that the boy was what had made him lose the love of his life. He loved the child slumbering on the couch. He loved Harry because the boy was a part of himself and a part of his wife and, no matter what else happened, nothing could change that.

Smiling to himself, still flooded with love and care for his young son, Severus summoned a pillow and blanket to him before gently shifting Harry so that he was laying down.

After tucking the blanket, the Potions Master found himself stroking the thick black hair. He was surprised when Harry sighed again and turned his head towards the comforting pressure of the long fingered, thin hand.

He was even more surprised when he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss the boy's forehead, just next to the famous scar that was a sign of the biggest tragedy in both of their lives.


	3. Chapter 3

Severus was awoken early in the morning by blood curdling screams. At first, he couldn't figure out where the noise was coming from.

Then he remembered the twelve year old that had fallen asleep on his couch last night.

He tore off the bedcovers and raced into the living room where he was just in time to see the small boy fall, face first, onto the floor.

The tall man swept over to the couch quick as lightning and crouched down to better see the child on the floor.

Harry had flipped over and was looking around wildly, small whimpers escaping his mouth and terror in his eyes. There were tear tracks down his face that were now mixing with blood that was flowing freely from a broken nose and a gash at his temple. He must have hit it on the coffee table when he fell.

"Harry," Severus gasped, touching the boy's shoulder. Harry cried out and shied away. His eyes were glassy and he looked at his father unseeingly.

"Harry, it's just me," he tried again, this time not touching the child at all. "It's just your fa- Professor Snape."

The boy blinked his green eyes slowly, as if trying to figure out what was going on.

"You had a nightmare and fell," Severus said when the boy stayed silent. The blood wasn't stopping at all so the wizard summoned a basin to hold under his nose and a flannel to hold to the cut while he went to get some potions.

He quickly returned with two vials and a pot of salve.

"This is a numbing salve," the Potions professor explained. "I'm going to put a bit on your nose so it doesn't hurt when I heal it."

Harry sat still while his father gently swiped a bit of the salve onto the bridge of his nose. After a whispered "_Episkey,_" he poured some of one of the potions on to a clean flannel and dabbed it to the gash until it was completely closed up. He gave the boy a pain relief potion, which he downed, and the professor cast a cleansing charm to get rid of all the blood.

"Thanks," Harry murmured. He raised a hand to his temple, as if checking that the cut really was healed.

"Think nothing of it," Severus brushed it off.

He paused and then asked, "Would you like to talk about your nightmare?"

"I-I don't remember it," the young boy said a little too quickly but his eyes began to shine with moisture and he sniffled slightly at the thought of the nightmare.

The Potions Master sat there awkwardly, unsure of what to do as the tears began to fall despite the valiant efforts of the young Gryffindor to stem them. He had never been particularly good at comforting people. It used to make Lily laugh when he tried to comfort her he was so bad and he hadn't gotten any better since. The only practice he got was home sick first years and the occasional girl who had gotten in a fight with a friend over a boy or some other trite little thing.

Severus cautiously put an arm around the shoulders of the upset child sitting next to him and stroked his shoulder in, hopefully, a comforting gesture. Harry stiffened initially but after a few minutes, he relaxed and leaned into his father's embrace.

They had been sitting together like that for about fifteen minutes before the tears began to slow and, eventually, stop.

Five or so minutes after the tears had stopped flowing, Severus looked down at Harry and gently asked, "Do you want to try to go back to sleep?"

The boy shook his head violently and the professor could see the eyes begin to shine again.

"Alright, Harry, calm down," he said quickly. "We don't have to go back to sleep. Why don't we talk instead? We can get to know each other a bit better."

"Ok," Harry mumbled, seeming a bit apprehensive.

"Why don't you ask me what you want first and when you are done, I will ask you some questions?" Severus suggested in order to ease some of the boy's discomfort and, in turn, his own.

"Alright," he responded slowly.

He didn't say anything right away. He wasn't sure what to ask his father. What if he asked wrong question and made him mad? He had seen the man angered as his teacher before but he didn't want to see it now that the man knew he was Harry's father.

"Ask me anything," Harry heard his father say, almost like he could read his mind. "There are a few questions I will not answer and I ask that you do not press me if I say no, but I won't get upset about anything you wish to know."

Harry still looked uneasy but he inquired, "Are your parents alive?"

"Yes," Severus answered hesitantly. His parents were not a good topic for him. "May I ask why you wish to know?"

"I just wondered if I had grandparents," the child replied. "I've always wondered what it's like to have grandparents."

"What do you mean, you've always wondered what it is like to have grandparents?" Severus frowned. "You have grandparents. You're mother's mother and father."

"No, they're dead," Harry refuted, also frowning. "My aunt told me."

"No, I am quite certain they are alive and well," the Potions Master insisted. "I received a card from them this past Christmas, as I have every Christmas since I started dating your mother."

"Why would Aunt Petunia say they were dead?" Harry whispered a hurt look on his face. "And why did they never visit me?"

"I am not sure," he answered, "but I am definitely going to ask her about that tomorrow.

"Continue," Severus encouraged the boy when he didn't ask another question.

"I don't know what to ask," Harry admitted. "Do you follow Quidditch at all?"

"I am quite a fan of Puddlemere United," he answered.

"That's the team my Quidditch captain, Oliver, likes," Harry commented.

Harry again went quiet so Severus inquired, "Isn't there anything else you wish to ask me?"

The black haired, green eyed boy bit his lips and looked away. His father told him to go on so he whispered, "Can you tell me about my mum? No one's ever told me anything about her, unless she really was a good-for-nothing, awful, lazy drunk like Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon always said that she and James were."

"They said _what_?" the man exclaimed. "Your mother was most certainly not any of those things. She was the kindest, most loving, most hard working woman I have ever met and she _never _drank. After our wedding, she didn't even drink a glass of champagne. And loathe as I am to admit it, James was not either. They both had good jobs, your mother as a Healer in training and James as an Auror."

"What was she like, then?" Harry asked wistfully. "I've seen pictures of her so I know she was really pretty but the only person anyone ever talks about is James. I don't know who she was, what she liked, if she had pets, anything!"

"You are correct that she was very beautiful," Severus said sadly, remembering his love's smile and hair and eyes and every little detail of her appearance. "She was also the kindest person on earth. She was kind to anyone and everyone, unless they threatened her or someone else, even if she didn't know the victim. Then she was like a mother bear, fiercely defending whoever was being made fun of or threatened. She was brilliant at Charms and was a fair Potions student as well. She struggled a bit at Transfigurations but she always got it in the end. She liked flowers and animals and the color purple. She had a cat called Wish."

"Did she-" the boy broke off uncertainly. Severus could see the struggle that he was going through with himself.

When he finally talked, it took the father's breath away to hear the fear and anxiety in the child's question.

"Did she love me?"

"Oh, Harry," Severus whispered, very shocked by how painful it was to hear the boy's heart wrenching query. "Oh, Harry, of course she loved you. She loved you more than anything in the entire world; that's why she died for you. I never saw her happier than she was with you in her arms. You were her life."

Harry went silent once more and stayed that way for so long the professor though the boy had drifted off but he was completely taken by surprise when he asked, "Did you love her?"

"Oh, Merlin, yes," the older man breathed. "I loved her more than anything."

"Good," Harry mumbled. He definitely sounded tired now. Severus looked down and saw that the green eyes were shut and Harry's mouth was just opened the slightest bit, a sure sign of a pre-sleep stupor.

"Why don't we try to get a bit more sleep before we have to get up?" Severus suggested in a near whisper.

Harry didn't answer. He was already under the Sandman's spell, drifting through the land of nod. His head drooped a bit until it rested on Severus's shoulder.

Severus tried to gently move out from under the sleeping boy so he could go back to his own bed but as he moved, a small hand grabbed his pajama top and gripped it in a iron grasp.

"Please don't go," the child pleaded sleepily.

Severus lowered himself back onto the couch and shifted himself and Harry around so that he could lean back against the pillow. Once the older man had stopped moving, Harry wiggled around a bit before settling himself, head on his father's chest and arms around his waist in a comforting hug that he would never have had the courage to give or ask for in a rested and wakeful state.

As the new father began to drift out of consciousness, he thought he heard Harry mumble, "Don't leave me, Dad."


	4. Chapter 4

Severus was awoken for the second time by a pop. He opened his tired eyes and saw a house elf standing across the table from him.

"Professor Snape, sir," the elf whispered. "Professor Dumbledore, he is asking if you is coming to breakfast? If you is not, he is saying to get you something to eat."

"Bring down some food," he requested, still in a sleepy haze. "A bit of everything."

The elf popped away with a bow low to the floor.

"Wazzit?" Harry mumbled, trying to sit up at the sudden popping noise but failing due to the long arms of his Potions professor and father still encircling him. When the boy couldn't sit up, he began to struggle.

Severus was instantly awake. He pulled his arms away and sat up. Harry scooted away quickly and pulled his legs up to his chest. This behavior still greatly disturbed the older occupant of the room but he didn't know how to address it.

"Relax, child," Severus said, trying to sound calm and soothing, "it was just one of the kitchen elves here to get our breakfast order."

Harry's breathing was still a bit fast and his face was still a shade paler than normal but he uncurled himself. The boy let his legs drop but he kept his arms wrapped around his stomach, like he was still trying to protect the vital organs hidden behind the layer of skin and muscle.

There was another pop, this time from the kitchen, and it caused Harry to start.

"Let's go eat," Severus suggested in a low, even voice.

The small boy followed the tall man through the doorway and into a small but functional kitchen. Inside the room was a table laden with delicious looking breakfast foods. Eggs pancakes, bacon, sausage, kippers, potatoes, toast, marmalade, milk, pumpkin juice, and a plate of fresh sliced fruit covered the entire table except for two place settings.

The two sat down and Severus began to scoop different dishes onto his plate. After taking decent portions of eggs, potatoes, and kippers as well as a slice of golden brown toast, he looked up to pour a glass of juice, he saw that Harry had yet to take anything.

"Eat," the professor said in a tone that brooked no argument. Harry quickly scooped up a small pile of eggs and took one piece of toast.

"You must want more than that," the sallow skinned man insisted. "Have some more; that's barely enough to keep a bird alive."

Hesitantly, the preteen took a piece of bacon as well.

Giving a sigh, the much bigger man grabbed the plate and scooped more eggs onto the plate as well as some potatoes, another strip of bacon, and two pancakes onto the plate.

After setting it back down, he filled Harry's glass with milk.

"You may have juice after you finish the milk, if you wish," the professor said in an authoritative tone.

"Ok, sir," Harry said meekly.

The pair began to eat silently, the only noise coming from the clinking of silverware on the plates and the picking up and setting down of glasses.

Severus noticed that Harry was eating very quickly and, it seemed, was being almost possessive of the food. He had the plate pulled up to the edge of the table and he was slightly hunched over it. Every so often, he also noticed the boy glancing up at him warily, as if he was waiting for the older wizard to swipe the food away from him.

"When you are done," the professor began, startling the young boy, "you may freshen up in my bathroom and then you should go up to your dorm. I am sure that you have not packed your things yet and you cannot miss the train."

"I've packed most of my things already," Harry mumbled. "Just some books and the clothes I'm wearing today."

"Well," Severus sighed, "you are more prepared and responsible than I ever was a student. I usually did not pack until the last hour before I had to leave."

Harry smiled slightly.

When the father saw that Harry's plate was empty, he urged the boy to eat more but he declined, stating that he was already full.

Once the boy was off to shower, Severus called the elf assigned to him, a kind young female elf called Twilly, and had her fetch his newly found son some clothes from the Gryffindor dorm.

The elf had barely had enough time to grab the clothes and pop back before the small black haired boy emerged from the bedroom (the only bathroom was inside the Potions Master's bedroom) with wet hair.

"Why haven't you dried your hair?" the elder man inquired with an arched eyebrow.

"I dried it with a towel I found under the sink," Harry said in a quiet and almost…fearful voice at the same time, looking at his bare feet..

"Why didn't you use a spe-" Severus began but stopped when he realized that Harry probably hadn't learned that spell.

"How would you like me to teach you another hygiene spell?" he questioned.

Harry looked up shyly and nodded.

"The incantation is _pulsus siccus," _he informed his son.

He pulled out his ebony wand and pointed it towards the side of his own head.

"The movement are a tight spiral while pushing forward towards your head," the professor explained. He then demonstrated and the boy watched as a blast of heated air blew through the long black hair and then settled back exactly how it was.

As Harry saw the spell demonstrated, all he could think about was the soaring feeling in his chest. To others it would probably seem a bit barmy, to care so much about learning a simple hair drying spell, but to Harry it meant everything. These spells were something that a child learned from their parent, something that the unfortunate boy had never hoped to have the luxury of having. Words could not describe the joy that this mere spell gave the former orphan simply because it was something special between parents and their children and Harry finally had someone who fit that category.

"What are you waiting for?" Severus asked, a hint of impatience in his voice that caused the small boy to snap to. "Aren't you going to cast the spell?"

"Yes, sir" Harry murmured before incantating the spell and twirling his wand. A gust of warm air blew through his hair and he felt all the moisture being wicked away before each strand settled back into the untidy mess it always was.

"Now, go to your dormitory," the professor said. "I will meet you at the train station this evening and we will see to your relatives."

"Alright, sir," Harry responded. "See you later."


	5. Chapter 5

The common room was half full of other Gryffindors, mostly the older students who had already packed. Harry trudged past his classmates and went up the staircase to his dormitory.

"Where've you been, Harry?" the dark skinned roommate asked.

"Yeah, mate," Seamus concurred in his Irish brogue, "you disappeared after dinner and Ron said you had detention with Snape but you never came back."

Neville then piped up, "We waited up late for you."

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, trying to think up a plausible excuse. He didn't care if anyone knew about his father but he was unsure whether the professor wanted anyone to know and he would be damned if he screwed the (potentially) best thing that had ever happened to him.

"No worries," Dean grinned, "we had fun playing Exploding Snap and trying out some things that the twins invented."

"So where were you?" the Irish boy inquired again.

"Hospital Wing," Harry's mouth blurted before his brain had a chance to think out a whole story.

"What happened?" Neville questioned with concern.

"I, uh, fell," the black haired pre-teen said. Quickly, he came up with a story as to what happened.

"I was reorganizing a closet for Professor Snape and I fell off the ladder while I was trying to put something on a high shelf," Harry lied. "Madame Pomfrey said I hit my head and got knocked out and that the professor brought me in when he found me. She made me stay the night and I ate breakfast there."

Ron, of course, knew why he was really in the dungeons and Dean and Seamus seemed to believe his quickly concocted fabrication. Neville didn't say anything but Harry noticed a strange look on the chubby boy's face.

~~~~~HP~~~~~

All too soon, Percy, as was the duty of a Prefect, came up to their room to inform them that it was time to leave for the train.

The five second year boys made their way down to the common room. Hermione rushed over to Ron and Harry, visibly pleased to be able to get away from Lavender and Pavarti. Dean and Seamus broke away from the rest of the group and headed over to the chattering girls Hermione had just abandoned. Neville stuck with the trio but stayed quiet on the walk through the castle and down to the train station.

Once on the train, the trio plus Neville found a compartment to occupy for the long ride back to London.

They talked and laughed for roughly a half hour before Ron remembered that his parents had sent Percy bit of money so that their children could get a treat on the way home. He ran off, intent on finding his brother before the twins had a chance to take all the money.

Just after Ron slid the compartment door shut, Hermione stood and told them that she needed to take a trip to the toilet. She too left the compartment, leaving Harry and Neville alone.

There was a moment of slightly awkward silence before Neville timidly spoke.

"You weren't in the Infirmary," the quiet boy said softly.

"What?" Harry, who had been looking out the window at the quickly passing countryside, asked.

"I got up early this morning to pack," the Gryffindor said more confidently, "because I wanted to be sure not to forget anything. But when I went to the common room to look for a book, I tripped on the rug and hurt my wrist. It was really swollen so I went to Madame Pomfrey. You weren't there."

Harry's mouth fell open slightly. He was caught. What could he tell Neville?

"Did-" Neville broke off nervously but went on anyway. "Did Professor Snape do something? Did he keep you…locked up last night?"

"No," Harry answer quickly.

"Then where were you?" the 12 year old pressed.

"I…fell asleep," Harry tried. It wasn't a lie but he didn't expect Neville would leave it.

"Why didn't he wake you up and send you to the dorm?" Neville questioned. He sounded worried. Harry had no idea what the boy could be thinking.

The only thing going through Harry's roommate's mind was that his most feared professor had done something…inappropriate and Harry was too frightened to admit it. Neville only thought of this because of a conversation he had overheard between his grandmother and his uncle, Algie a few years before he started Hogwarts. They had been discussing how one of the teachers from his day-school had been molesting students the grade above young Neville.

Harry's mouth opened and closed his mouth several times.

"If the professor did something…bad, Harry, you can tell me," Neville said in what was supposed to be a comforting voice. "If he…touched you or made you do something last night, you can-"

"No!" Harry shouted. "No, it wasn't like that, Neville."

"Then what was it like?" the normally meek Gryffindor asked insistently.

"I…I can't tell you," Harry deflected.

"If you don't tell me, Harry," Neville paused, seeming to pluck up his courage before finishing the sentence, 'I'll tell. I'll tell my Gran and Uncle Algie that Professor Snape kept you overnight in his office or maybe even his rooms. I'm not going to let him hurt you; you're one of the only people who is nice to me. You don't make fun of me for practically being a Squib and you don't talk about me behind my back about how chubby I am like Lavender and Parvati. I'm not going to let someone hurt my friend.'

'Alright, alright," Harry shouted over Neville, whose voice had steadily gotten louder and louder until he was almost shouting. "I'll tell you, just calm down."

Harry was between the metaphorical rock and a hard place. He didn't want to tell without the professor's permission but if Neville was going to tell his grandmother and uncle that he thought the Potions Master had done something…untoward, he didn't see any way to assuage his friend's fears other than telling him.

"You can't tell," the black haired hero said seriously.

Neville nodded.

"Professor Snape is my father," Harry revealed quietly. His fellow Gryffindor gasped but let his dorm mate continued.

"He and my mum were married in secret but when she got pregnant with me, she said I wasn't his son and went to my dad, James."

"Why?" Neville breathed in disbelief. 'How do you know?"

"I don't know why," Harry admitted. "When Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore were discussing what would happen to me this summer, they talked about why, I think, but I didn't know what they meant. And I know because of some stuff I found at my aunt's house. There was my birth certificate and a letter from my mum that proved it."

"Merlin," the pudgy boy gaped. "That's-"

But at that moment, Hermione reentered the compartment followed by Ron, who looked a bit perturbed. He told the small group that his twin brothers' had gotten there before him and didn't give him his money until after they had played a little Clabbert-in-the-Middle.

The rest of the train ride was relatively calm and quiet. The boys played Exploding Snap for a while and Hermione read _Hogwarts: A History_. After the food trolley came by and the group stocked up on Pumpkin Pasties, Licorice Wands, and Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Harry and Ron played a few games of chess and Hermione and Neville started a debate about the properties of some plant or other.

Just as the sky began to turn the beautiful orange and pink hues of a summer sunset began to appear, the train pulled into the station. The platform was teaming with smiling parents and siblings, excited to see their children after not seeing them since Easter or earlier. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were right in front of the crowd, searching the windows for their children's faces.

Children began pouring from the train and parents rushed to find their offspring. There was much hugging and smothering with kisses by the parents and a lot of groaning and pulling away, but many of them were still smiling.

Harry dragged his trunk onto the platform and got a trolley to carry his things before he looked around for his father. He did not see the tall, dark haired professor anywhere.

"Harry, dear!" Mrs. Weasley cried as she enfolded him in a tight hug. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, his voice slightly muffled since Mrs. Weasley was still holding him to her.

"I still can't thank you enough for saving my little Ginny," the mother said shakily, now holding the boy at arm's length.

"You don't have to thank me," Harry mumbled, cheeks turning red with embarrassment.

She was about to say more when the older three boys, Ginny, and Mr. Weasley came up. The group of eight then proceeded through the barrier.

The other side was teaming with businessmen going catching a train home and women carrying armloads of bags from a day of shopping.

The sallow skinned man was still nowhere to be found and the young, green eyed boy was starting to get worried. Where was his father? He had said he would be there.

"Harry, darling, is your family here?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"I, um, don't know," Harry answered, very confused and a bit hurt that Professor Snape wasn't there.

"Why don't we wait with you, then," she suggested.

"That's alright," Harry said quickly. "They'll be along soon. They're probably just stuck in traffic."

"Oh, I don't know," the mother said, showing her maternal instinct, even though Harry was not her child. "I don't like the thought of leaving you here all alone. What if something happens?"

'I'll be fine," Harry tried to sound reassuring and calm. "I'll just sit on that bench over there," he gestured to the left, "and wait."

"If you're sure, dearie," she agreed but still looked uncertain.

"I am," the child said.

"All right then," she sighed, "owl if you need anything at all this summer, anything at all."

She turned to her family and hurried then along.

Harry watched his best friend's family departing. He wished that he had a family like that: a loving mother and father, brothers and a sister who might be annoying but would do anything for you if you really needed it. He had Professor Snape now but the young boy was still so unsure of the man. He said that he wanted Harry but what about the first time he screwed up? Would the man throw him out or, worse, treat him like the Dursley's did.

He was so deep in thought that he didn't hear Hermione come up to say goodbye. She gave him a tight hug and told him basically the same thing as Mrs. Weasley: if he needed anything, owl her and she would help if she could.

As his other best friend left with her parents, Harry went over to the bench and sat down, his trolley sitting next to him.

While Harry waited for his father, he watched the people going by. Many gave him strange looks and a few glared after seeing the owl in the cage on top of the boy's trunk.

As the trains began leaving, the station emptied out until the only people Harry saw were some station employees and a couple of homeless people using the public toilet.

The child was beyond worried by this point. He felt like all the pasties and other treats he had eaten on the train were about to repeat on him. Where was his father? The man had told him he would be there, waiting for him, when he got off of the train. Had he changed his mind? Did he not want Harry as a son anymore? Why would he just leave him here if he did want Harry?

All of a sudden, a shadow fell over Harry and he barely had time to glance up into the person's face before they roughly grabbed a handful of his hair and shouted, "What in bloody blazes do you think you're doing, boy, making your aunt and I wait forty-five damn minutes for you to show your worthless carcass home from that freak school of yours!"

"Unc-uncle Vernon," Harry gasped, terrified of what his uncle would do to him and now more desperate than ever for his father to come for him before all that was left to find was a broken, bleeding corpse.


	6. Chapter 6

"Why in the hell didn't you come find us?" Vernon bellowed, back handing the boy before forcefully shoving the small twelve-year-old to the concrete. A large chunk of Harry's hair got caught on Vernon's watch and when the obese man hurled his nephew away it ripped out of his scalp, sending a searing pain through his head.

When Harry crashed into the pavement, he felt his already sore head crack on the hard ground and his left arm scrape along the pavement as he slid several feet away from his uncle.

"Ever since we took you in," Vernon raged, "all you've done is cause us grief!"

He stomped over to the already down boy and gave him a swift kick in the ribs.

Harry didn't want to give the despicable man the pleasure of crying out but he couldn't help it. As the second kick came, Harry grunted. At the third, he yelped. When the fourth struck, a moan could be heard and by the time the fifth came, tears were leaking out of Harry's bright green eyes as he moaned in agony.

While Harry was lying curled up in pain on the ground, clenching his eyes shut, Vernon grabbed the poor, abused boy by the neck and lifted him to his feet.

Slamming his young nephew into a post near to the bench, the purple faced, absolutely furious man squeezed. Harry felt the air supply being constricted and was overcome by terror. He heard his uncle shouting at him some more but he couldn't understand the words flying out with the spittle.

Just as his vision was beginning to go black, he heard the sharp _tap, tap _of running footsteps approaching. Suddenly, he was released and slumped to the ground, gulping in deep gasps of air.

~~~~~HP~~~~~~

Severus quickly walked towards Platform 9 and ¾. He was immensely irritated that he was late to pick up Harry.

The reason he was late was the most ridiculous thing in the world.

After the train left Hogsmeade station, he joined the other professors for a luncheon in the staff room. He had a good chat with Charity Burbage, the Muggle Studies professor, about a television show they had both watched as children. From there, he learned that she had actually grown up a few towns over from him and that their fathers had both worked in the same factory, although in different areas.

When the luncheon was over, Severus spent about two hours giving his labs and storage closets a good cleaning out. He threw out all of the old potions and ingredients and all the ones that would expire before they could be used. The things that he could use before they went bad were packed up and sent to his rooms via Twilly, his house elf.

The professor then spent the next two hours cleaning out his rooms. He packed all of his robes and other garments into one of the two trunks he owned, with the exception of his thick, black teaching robes. Those particular robes were heavyweight for the chilly dungeons and had charms woven into them to protect his skin from harmful potions if they splashed onto him. He had some lighter weight robes at his summer home with the same charms, so there was no need to bring the others.

He filled his remaining luggage space with as many books as he could fit, as well as one photo album that had pictures of him and his beloved Lily from childhood to their wedding and marriage. He hadn't looked at any of the photos since the day she had broken his heart by telling him she had been unfaithful and gone to be with James to have his child.

He was nearly done and ready to Floo to his home in Peacehaven with his belongings when the Headmaster knocked on his door.

"I have contacted someone that I know and trust and she will be able to procure the documents needed to gain parental custody of young Harry," the elderly professor informed his much younger colleague. "You will need to head over to the Ministry very shortly in order to begin the proceedings. Lynnette Newman in the Department of Custody and Familial Matters is waiting for you."

Severus inclined his head in acknowledgement but refused to thank the man who had stolen away his son, his son who he would have done anything for had he known the truth, for nearly twelve years. It was his fault that he needed to do this to begin with and simply finding someone discreet was hardly going to make this all right again.

So he called for Twilly and had the young elf take his trunks and boxes of potions and ingredients to his home while he headed to the Ministry.

He had no problem getting to the correct office but he had no sooner said hello to Lynnette, a woman he vaguely recalled as being a fourth year Hufflepuff when he had started school, than a gong rang out so loud that he nearly covered his ears. It was followed by a message saying that the Ministry was to be evacuated immediately and that everyone should go to the atrium for further instructions.

He, along with the rest of the office, proceeded to the atrium where they were directed to stay until they were told otherwise. Aurors cast some protective spells and shields and sealed the doors so that no one could possibly leave before sending silver Patronus messages through the barriers.

Nearly two more hours later, Severus finally discovered the reason for their temporary incarceration.

Apparently, when the Minister's secretary returned from a trip to the records room, she had found a note on her desk stating that there was a bomb somewhere in the Ministry that was set to blow at 6:30 that evening. The poor girl screamed, alerting many in the vicinity and one of those people called for the Aurors. They locked down the entire Ministry in order to search for the bomb and to question everyone inside to see who sent the note and placed the bomb.

A box was found in the Department of Mysteries, shoved inside of a very old chest that had recently come into the department's possession to be examined as it allegedly belonged to Nero, an emperor of Rome and dark wizard, unbeknownst to his Muggle court. It was in a storage closet because it had been easily discovered that while to chest was old it was nowhere near as old as it should be if, indeed, it was once Nero's.

Since it was not anything special after all, the Unspeakables had placed it in a closet that had minimal protection on it; a simple Alohomora would open the closet located in the front office.

When the Aurors opened the box, they were livid.

Inside were five dungbombs.

After much searching and questioning, they found the culprit of this highly aggravating and dangerous prank.

The Minister had brought his nine year old nephew in with him for the afternoon because his parents thought it would be fun for the boy to get to see what the Minister did and how important his job was.

The child disagreed.

An hour in he was tremendously bored and that was when he concocted the scheme.

After the boy confessed and the rest of the crowd was allowed to leave, Severus followed Lynnette back up to her office to get the proper documents and to learn what he needed to do to ensure that no one could again take his son from him.

By the time he left the Ministry, agitated and peeved at the whole ordeal, it was already after the time the train was set to reach its destination by a good half hour. The only good that came out of the whole mess was to see the Minister publicly humiliated.

The new father felt terrible about leaving his son there. He was sure the boy was beside himself, thinking that Severus had changed his mind or something similar and it made the man even more furious that he hadn't known of his son from the very start (or at least once Lily was gone and he should have rightfully gained custody) and at the bloody Minister and his idiot nephew for making him late.

He ducked into and alley and Apparated to another alley near the station, thinking of something he could do to make it up to the boy for being late.

Just as he decided that perhaps if he took Harry out to dinner at any restaurant he liked tonight, he saw some horribly fat man kicking something on the ground and screaming. A split second later, he realized it was Harry.

~~~~~HP~~~~~

Severus broke into a run. He was still a good seventy-five metres away so the fat man did not hear or see him coming from behind.

When the man saw his son's attacker pick the already very injured boy by the throat and slam him into a brick column, his temper flared white hot. An extra burst of speed put him close enough to aim his wand, which had ended up in his hand of seemingly its own accord, and hiss an Expelliarmus.

The fat man flew off the ground and landed about ten feet away from the boy he had been attacking and Harry slid to the ground.

Severus rushed over to his son, who was now curled up in the fetal position, and was about to attend to him when the mammoth man stood and, roaring, lunged at the wizard.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" he screamed, spit flying from his mouth. "How dare you cast your freaky hocus-pocus on me?"

"I _think_," Severus said with enough venom to make Merlin himself quake, "that it doesn't matter who I am and I _dare _cast a spell on you to keep you from KILLING HIM!"

With that final yell, he reeled back his arm and punched Vernon Dursley with all his might and was quite satisfied when he heard a crunch.

"Why you bloody-" the bleeding man shouted and started towards the thin man. He stopped instantly, however, when Severus drew his wand and pointed it directly at the disgustingly fat whale's heart.

"You are going to go back to your car," Severus hissed dangerously. "You will tell your wife that Harry wasn't at the station and that you got injured when you tripped over your own fat feet. If you do not," the professor paused for dramatic effect and it worked; Vernon was as pale as a ghost and looked about ready to sick up, "I will do much worse than toss you on your arse and break your nose."

Vernon gulped audibly and waddled off as fast as his fat legs could carry him.

As soon as he was sure the detestable man was not coming back, Severus Snape forgot decorum and dropped to his knees to check on his beaten and bloody child.

He placed a hand on Harry arm, trying to discern if the boy was conscious or not.

"No!" Harry cried hoarsely with force that one normally wouldn't have after receiving such a beating. He tried and failed to rise from the ground to defend himself.

"Easy, child," Severus tried to sound soothing. "He is gone; it is only me now."

Harry blinked once and winced; he already had a black eye forming from where his uncle had smacked him.

"Can you tell me what hurts?" the concerned man asked quietly.

"Everything," Harry whimpered weakly. "My head and my throat and my ribs and my stomach and my arm and, and everything!"

Harry tried valiantly to hold back tears of pain but he did not succeed. Droplets of salt water ran down his face and made dark spots on the concrete where they fell.

Severus knew he needed to get Harry to his home before someone found him so that he could record the injuries and heal them.

The Potions Master opened the very distraught owl's cage and told her, "Go to Number 13, The Lookout in Peacehaven. We shall be there when you arrive."

The owl glared at him and flapped down beside her master. She gave him a soft and affectionate nip on the ear before glancing at the other wizard again.

"Go on, Hed," Harry croaked. "He's alright."

The owl gave the tall man one more look before apparently deciding he was to be trusted. She hooted in acceptance and flew off into the sky.

Snape then shrunk the trunk that sat on the trolley and pocketed it before turning his full attention on the twelve year old laying on the platform.

"I am going to pick you up so that I can Apparate us both," Severus warned the injured child. "I am afraid it will probably hurt when I lift you but I do not have any potions with me that could ease your pain. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded shortly, trying to stem the tears that were still falling from his brilliantly green eyes.

"Try breathing like we did last night," the professor suggested as he slid his arms under the boy and Harry winced in pain. "It has helped me in the past."

Harry closed his eyes and began taking slow, deep breaths. The preteen was surprised when he found that it did offer a little relief.

All of a sudden, Harry felt like he was being squeezed through a tube. It was a most disconcerting experience and one he hoped he would not have to go through again.

The feeling ceased as soon as it had started and Harry cracked open his good eye to see where they were.

Before Harry lay a gray and white stone cottage. It looked rather like it had been built quite some time ago but it was in good condition. The door and the shutters were painted a dark color (Harry couldn't tell what color it was in the dim light) and there was ivy coveing a goodportion of the walls.

That was all Harry had time to see before Severus swept inside to tend to his injured son.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry barely had a chance to glance at the house before he was whisked away to a bedroom in the back of the house.

The tall professor gently laid the boy down on the bed and immediately began looking over him.

"What do you think your bloody doing?" Harry croaked when he felt his shirt being removed. "Leave off, I'm fine."

"I am checking to see what damage was done when that great oaf kicked you in the stomach," Severus replied, ignoring the rude language that he attributed to Harry being in distress. "And there is no possible way that you are fine. I just witness you get the stuffing beat out of you by a man who weighs at least five times as much as you and is a good half metre taller, as well. Now, calm yourself and be still. I need to see if I can repair the damage or if I need to take you to a Healer."

"No," Harry insisted, "I'm fine. He didn't hurt me all that much. I just need some bruise salve for my eye."

"That is not going to happen," Severus responded. "Be still or I will stun you in order to examine your injuries."

Harry stopped trying to get away from his professor. He knew that there was no way that he was going to let it go. Now all Harry could do was hope that his father didn't see his back.

Snape looked over Harry's eye, head, and arm, prodding occasionally. He then moved to Harry's bruised abdomen and had to control his rage. There was barely a skin coloured centimetre anywhere. It was all a horrible mess of blacks, blues, and purples and it went from mid-chest all the way to around where Harry's ill-fitting trousers began.

"I shall return shortly," Severus informed his injured son. "I have need of a few potions in order to heal you and I am not sure that I have them all. I need to return to the castle and get some from Madam Pomfrey. Stay on the bed while I am gone. I do not want to return and find you passed out on the floor."

He left the room and Harry heard a swooshing noise that signaled the older man's departure from the cottage.

Harry quickly got bored and longed to get up from the bed (even though it was very comfortable) to take a look around the house. When he tried to raise himself off of the furniture, however, he found that he could not as any movement sent burning pain shooting throughout his body.

He slumped back down and resigned himself to simply looking around the room.

'This must be his room,' Harry thought as he took his less than intriguing view.

He was lying on an average sized bed. Or at least, he assumed it was an average sized bed. It was a bit smaller than he recalled his aunt and uncle's being but he had always secretly thought that they had had to get an overly large bed to accommodate Vernon's enormous girth. It was quite comfortable, in the Gryffindor's opinion. Not too soft or too stiff.

Next to the bed was a night table that had a lamp on it as well as a coaster and a few rather worn looking books. The lamp was electric as opposed to the kerosene lamps the Weasley's used, so apparently the man must have some background in the Muggle world.

Under the window was a desk. There was only a lamp and in ink blotter on it, so Harry did nothing more than throw a cursory glance its way.

On the wall opposite the desk was a wardrobe and a bookcase full to bursting with books. Harry could make out a few titles and was surprised (although he really shouldn't have been after seeing the lamp) to find some Muggle books in there. Books by Charles Dickens, Mark Twain, and Voltaire were only a few of the Muggle authors scattered in with books by Bertram Pender and Damocles…something or other. He couldn't quite make it out as the book was obviously very worn and, as such, the name had worn off. He could, however, tell that this book (as well as the one by Bertram Pender) was about potions based on the title.

There wasn't much else to look at in the room besides the walls. They were light blue, a color that did not seem to fit the image Professor Severus Snape portrayed in his everyday life, as well as a white and navy decorative border around the top edge of the room. The curtains on the window went well with the paint and the border, also being white and navy and in a similar pattern of clean stripes like the wallpaper that encircled the bedroom.

Harry sighed and closed his eyes. The one that had received the brunt of Vernon's backhanded hit was throbbing painfully and would barely open.

Harry had begun to drift off ever so slightly when he heard another 'swoosh' and the professor returned.

He entered the bedroom carrying several potions and salves. The professor set them on the desk and then went to the end of the bed, stooping down so Harry was unable to see what was going on.

When Severus Snape stood up, he was holding a camera.

"What's that for?" Harry inquired, eying the camera warily.

"I need to catalog your injuries, Po-Harry," the man informed his son, hoping he didn't notice the slip up. Even though he knew Harry was his son now, it was still hard to forget the last two years.

"Why?" the boy asked.

"Because," Severus answered, "I will need the pictures for when I take that deplorable excuse for a human being to court for what he did to you."

'What do you mean, take him to court?" Harry asked, face paling and breaths quickening. "You- you're going to tell people?"

"Yes," the confused man replied. What did the child think, that he was just going to let that…thing get away with pummeling the twelve year old to a bloody pulp?

"I am hardly going to let your uncle walk away scot free after beating you like that," Severus scoffed. "He deserves to be thrown in jail and have the key tossed out."

"But it really wasn't that bad," Harry insisted in a mumble. "I've had worse."

The second he saw the murderous look on the older man's face did he realize that he had said the last bit out loud. He hadn't meant to; he meant to think that part. He didn't want his father, or anyone, to know what his uncle did to him. It was too painful and humiliating to remember, let alone talk about what had happened over the years he had lived at Number 4 Privet Drive.

Severus had to actively tamp down the white hot fury that coursed through his veins. He knew exactly what Harry meant by those words; that lout Dursley had been abusing him and badly.

Instead of immediately questioning Harry, like he wanted to, Severus took several deep breaths and began to photograph the multiple injuries that the boy had sustained.

He carefully took pictures of each injury, starting from the ripped out hair on Harry's skull and working his way down to the end of the bruising on the unnaturally flat abdomen.

When the thirty-four year old man had finished getting evidence aganst the abusinve lump that was Vernon Dursley, he handed Harry a dark blue potion that seemed kind of watery.

"This potion will close up any blood vessels that may have ruptures and caused internal bleeding," the Potions Master informed the boy. Harry swallowed, grimaced, and handed the vial back.

He immediately felt the potion begin to work. There was a sensation of warmth spread throughout his body, starting in his stomach and spreading to the tips of his fingers and toes.

"This one will prevent or reduce swelling in your brain so that you do not suffer from the effects of a concussion," the dark haired man said, pushing the next vial into the twelve year olds hands.

This one was a mix between purple and brown and smelled like burnt onions and tasted just the same. It felt slightly slimy going down but did not cause him to feel anything like the previous one had.

"The last one is a bone knitting potion, similar to Skelegro," the father informed his son. "It will heal your broken ribs

It tasted much like the potion he had had to take after Lockhart, the idiot, had removed the bones from his arm earlier that year. Harry managed not to spit it out this time, thankfully.

"Now, I am going to apply salve to remove the bruises," Severus informed Harry. He opened the jar and carefully began to apply the concoction to the preteen's mottled skin.

The professor was very gentle, Harry thought, and his hands were not cold, like the young boy had expected. Harry could feel the warm hands working the thick lotion into his abdomen, chest, and throat and he began to feel the ache fade away into oblivion.

Now the only pain that he had was coming from his scraped up arm and his head.

The Potions professor then poured a third potion into a bowl he summoned and proceeded to soak pieces of cloth in the clear yellow fluid. After making sure that the bandages were thoroughly soaked, Severus placed one over the missing patch of skin on Harry's head and the other on his severely scraped arm. After they were positioned to cover the entirety of the wounds (the one on Harry's arm was quite big) the elder man cast a Sticking Charm, adhering them to the young boy without the use of sticky adhesive. He them cast another spell that Harry did not know but it seemed to keep the moisture from transferring to anything else.

"Are you in any more pain?" the potion' expert asked.

"No," Harry murmured sleepily. Now that all his injuries were healed and he felt no more discomfort, Harry was exhausted.

"Don't go to sleep yet, Harry," Severus said in a low, silky voice. "You haven't eaten anything and I don't want you to get nauseas from the potions."

"Ok," the child mumbled as his brilliantly green eyes began to close, "won't fall asleep."

He was out before Severus could even leave the room.


	8. Chapter 8

Harry woke when he heard a creak. His eyes popped open to see that the door was opening slowly. A head with dark, lanky hair appeared and looked at the bed to see if the boy occupying it was awake.

"Ah," he said when he saw the bright green orbs looking back at him, "you are up. I have gotten dinner; I figured you would be hungry."

Harry then realized at that moment that, in fact, he was starving.

He opened his mouth to respond but his stomach beat him to it. A loud rumbling growl was heard and Harry saw the corners of the usually scowling mouth across the room turn upwards just a smidge.

"I'll take that as a yes," he replied to Harry's stomach. "Do you feel up to going to the kitchen?"

The black haired boy swung his legs over the side of the bed. The bed was fairly high off the ground (understandable since Severus Snape about six feet tall) and Harry's feet did not reach the ground, so the boy slid onto the stone floor and followed his professor and, now, his father to get some dinner.

When they entered the kitchen, Harry saw a small wooden table with two chairs on either side. There were two place settings and a flat box in the middle. Harry wasn't sure what was in the box but it smelled very good.

"What is that?" Harry queried, pointing to the box.

"It is a pizza," Severus replied slowly, baffled as to why a Muggle raised child did not recognize pizza box.

"It smells good," the twelve year old said enthusiastically. "I've always wanted to try pizza."

'What kind of Muggle raised child has never eaten a pizza?' the Potions professor thought.

Harry was confused by the look the older man got on his face. It was somewhere between a look of confusion and a look of anger. The anger in his father's face made the preteen cringe and step back.

Severus saw the fear in his young son's eyes and wanted to kick himself yet again. He had only been a parent for a day and a half and he had already scared his child twice. He wasn't doing it intentionally; the tall man had simply been overwhelmed with the sudden revelation that his wife had not betrayed him and her son was his as well. His control over his emotions was not nearly as good as usual.

After carefully schooling his facial features into a much more neutral look, Severus asked, "You have never eaten pizza before? Did your aunt and uncle never order in for take-away?"

"No," Harry responded in a near whisper. "They never did. If they had pizza, it was at a restaurant. They always left me with Mrs. Figg or in my- uh, at home."

Severus felt even more anger bubbling up in his stomach and the urge to punch someone, preferably Vernon or Petunia. Who left one child with a neighbor when they went out for dinner with the other child? And he knew Harry didn't mean to say that he stayed home alone. Severus was willing to bet they locked Harry in his room whenever they went somewhere. His father had done the same to him when he was a child and Vernon Dursley, the one time he had met him, had reminded Severus of his father.

"Well," he said with forced calmness, "I hope you enjoy your first pizza."

"Thanks, sir," the boy said.

Severus went to the cabinet to retrieve glasses to pour some of the Coca-Cola that came free with the pizza. When he turned from the counter he saw that the twelve year old had not taken a seat at the table. He stood near the door, looking nervously at the food on the table.

"Well, sit down," Severus said, deciding to leave the discussion of Harry's odd behavior until later.

Harry quickly took a seat at the table.

Severus set a glass of cola at Harry's place before taking the seat across from the twelve year old. He then opened the pizza box and transferred a slice of the pizza onto his plate.

He was about to lift the triangular wedge to his mouth when he noticed that Harry had not copied his actions and gotten a piece of pizza for himself.

"Why haven't you taken some for yourself?" the thirty-three year old professor asked.

"Oh," Harry mumbled, turning slightly pink. "I, um, I didn't-"

Severus could tell that there was something behind this but he put the obviously flustered child out of his misery by plopping a slice onto the twelve year olds plate and saying, "Feel free to eat as much pizza as you want. And do not hesitate to get yourself more to drink if you want it. This is your home now, too, Harry."

Harry nodded mutely, again relishing the fact that his father called it _his _home.

"Eat up," the man encouraged before taking a bite of his own meal.

Harry did and was delighted when he took his first ever bite of pizza. It was warm and the cheese was gooey. The tang and sweetness of the tomato sauce cut the saltiness of the cheese just enough and the crunch of the crust contrasted nicely with the softness of the other ingredients.

"I take it you like it, then," Severus commented lightly with an upward twist of his lips when he saw his son's green eyes light up.

"It's great!" the boy exclaimed. "I can understand now why Dudley ate so much of it now."

"Dudley is your cousin?" Severus asked lightly although internally he was seething at the fact that his son had been deprived of such a simple treat his entire life.

"Yes, sir," Harry answered before taking another bite of pizza and smiling while he chewed, savoring the flavors of the simple cheese pizza.

"Were there other foods that your cousin got to eat but you did not?" Severus asked, putting on a casual tone while he fished for information about his newly discovered son's home life.

"Hamburgers," Harry answered quietly once he swallowed his third bite of the gooey dinner. "They always went out for hamburgers; Aunt Petunia liked to have proper dinners at home, so it was always things like chops and roasts."

"You have never had a hamburger either?" the older wizard inquired.

"No, I have," the younger wizard replied after another bite of pizza. "When Hagrid took me to Diagon Alley the summer before First Year he took me to a hamburger restaurant."

"Did you enjoy yourself?" Severus enquired, thinking perhaps if the boy had liked going to the restaurant, he could find out from Hagrid where it was that he had taken Harry and then the Potions Master could take him again.

"Yes, it was fun," Harry replied. "I wanted to go again but I couldn't ask the Durs- I mean, I didn't."

The pair lapsed into silence as the continued with their meal. Harry was very unsure of himself in the presence of his Potions professor. Despite how he had been acting for the past day or so, Harry and the professor did not have a good relationship. The preteen was afraid that their biological ond would not change that.

Severus, on the other hand, was trying to figure out what to do about the Dursleys. It was obvious that besides the abuse the patriarch of the family inflicted on his son, both parents had neglected the boy. For crying out loud, the child hadn't been to a hamburger restaurant until he was 11! Something was going to have to be done. And soon.


End file.
